


Warm Eyes and Jazz

by AGirlWithPicturesInHerMind



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, One Shot, coffee shop AU, i know there's a lot but they never get old, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 10:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11918517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGirlWithPicturesInHerMind/pseuds/AGirlWithPicturesInHerMind
Summary: Nicole Haught and Waverly Earp get to know each other when they get locked in a coffee shop during a snow storm





	Warm Eyes and Jazz

**Author's Note:**

> I needed an break from Latibule so I wrote this in a couple hours because I was bored and I like writing so why not
> 
> Listen to jazz while reading this, it makes everything so much warmer
> 
> Happy reading :-)

_Holy fuck, look at those eyes._

Those are Nicole Haught's first thoughts when her eyes land on the pretty barista with a messy bun and breathtaking brown eyes. Outside, the snow it falling heavily and is brimming on a snow storm. The weather is in the negatives—something Nicole is not accustomed to coming from California—and she's pretty sure her insides are frozen, but one look at those eyes and her heart melts.

The barista is talking to a young, good-looking blonde haired guy, her elbows leaning against the countertop as her chin rests against her palm, and she looks utterly and terribly bored. Yet, her eyes are far from boring.

They're magnificent and drawing Nicole in so deeply that she bumps into the stand holding different snacks and ends up dropping the ones on the bottom row. Packets of Hershey's bars, Caramilk, Coffee Crisps (she had no idea what they were, except the Hershey's) land on her shoes. " _Shit_ ," she mutters under her breath.

She bends down to pick them up, but a giggle stops her midway. She looks up and finds the barista looking at her with amusement. The giggle and eye contact make her heart speed up and cheeks blush from embarrassment. "Sorry," she says in a soft voice, just loud enough for the barista to hear.

The barista gives her a smile and turns back to the man still talking, her eyes looking less bored. Nicole returns her attention to the task at hand, but her heart stops when she overhears the man ask the barista a question. It's not hard to hear—it's just him, a couple in the corner table, and her in the coffee shop. She's assuming that everyone else is at home, not wanting to get caught in the storm, and looking out the window, she thinks that she should've stayed home, too. _Stupid hot chocolate craving_ , she curses herself.

"Would you like to go out on a date with me?"

Nicole holds her breath after the question is asked.

"Jared, you're a very sweet man, but I'm just not interested. I'm sorry."

She breathes out just as _Tenderly_ by Sarah Vaughan comes on, and the man turns to leave with a disappointed look on his face.

Nicole has always been a rock and roll kind of girl, just like her mom, but she'll always have a big, soft spot for jazz. Her dad played in a jazz band up until his death when she was 7. He played the trumpet and sang—though the latter was done for her and her mom only, he was always too afraid to sing in public.

Though she won't admit it out loud (she's barely admitting it to herself), she's afraid of the storm. She's seen the snow plenty of times, but in San Diego snow storms don't exist. This is her first, and she's not sure what to expect. The song, at least, makes her as warm as the barista's eyes and it brings her a familiar comfort.

She gets up after gathering the candies, and when she does, she finds the barista staring at her with a curious look. "I thought maybe you were be eating all the chocolates down there," she says.

Nicole lets out a soft laugh and is about to run a hand through her hair only to be stopped by the beanie on her head. "I got lost in the song," she says while walking up to the counter.

"You like jazz?" Asks the brunette.

"Yeah, it makes me feel—"

"Warm?"

Nicole gives her shocked looked, "Exactly. Especially in a coffee shop."

The barista smiles. "You're new to Purgatory, aren't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"It's a small town, I know practically everyone. And if I don't know someone, I've heard of them. But no one's ever mentioned a pretty redhead before."

Nicole's cheeks turn a light red and she extends her hand, "I'm Nicole Haught." The barista takes her hand and it's as warm as her eyes (Well, not really as warm). She finds herself not wanting to let go.

"Waverly Earp. Now, _Nicole Haught_ , what can I get you?"

Nicole turns around when she hears the jingle of the door. The couple that was in the corner is leaving and now it's just her and Waverly. She'd be lying if she said that the thought of them alone didn't make her heart thud in her chest. Just as Nicole's about to respond to Waverly, the lights flicker. She turns back and the fear must be obvious in her eyes because Waverly's hand reaches out to cover hers, which is lying on the counter.

When she glances at it, Waverly snaps back her hand and apologizes sheepishly.

"This your first snow storm?" Waverly asks.

"Is it that obvious?"

Waverly nods and giggles, and Nicole smiles at her. "Can I get a hot chocolate to go please?"

Waverly looks disappointed, but says yes anyway. That's when Nicole realizes something.

"Wait. Are you going to be here alone while the storm's going on?" Nicole asks, her brows furrowed.

"Yeah, but don't worry. These storms usually end in a couple hours, I've gone through them in this shop millions of times."

"Doesn't it get scary?"

"Not really," Waverly admits. "If the lights go out, we've got a generator in the back. The cafe is warm enough, the couches are comfy, I've got Billie Holiday and Ella Fitzgerald to keep me company, and a book handy. You should always carry a book around with you, you know."

"I do actually," Nicole smiles. She digs into her bag and takes out _Skeleton Crew_ by Stephen King. "He taught me that," she says pointing to King's name in the bottom.

Waverly smiles, "Yeah, me too. Let me get you that hot chocolate before it's too late for you to get home. The storm's only bound to get harsher."

"Actually, I'll stay," Nicole says. She surprises herself.

Waverly stops in her tracks. "You don't have to do that for me," she says. "I wouldn't want you to stay in this place for hours when you can be in the warmth of your home."

"Good thing I'm not doing it for you, then."

"Huh?"

"I'm doing it for me. Because Waverly Earp, I want to get to know you. And what better way than to be locked up in a building together all by ourselves," she chuckles. "And like you said, the cafe is warm enough." _But your eyes are warmer_.

Waverly flashes her a bright smile that warms her soul, but still it seems that nothing could beat her eyes. "Okay, then. Go ahead and have a seat on one of the couches over there. I'll make us some hot chocolate."

Nicole nods as Waverly gets to work and walks over to the 2 couches by the big glass wall and she can't help but think that the snow will end up breaking it, so she passes them by and sits on a love seat in the corner instead, which stands in front of a nice thick and solid wall. It's an awful, green color that wouldn't make sense in any place except a coffee shop, and it's obviously old and used, but comfortable looking nonetheless.

As she sits down, she adjusts her beanie and takes off her scarf while _Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered_ by Ella Fitzgerald comes on, and suddenly, tears fill her eyes. The song's supposed to make her sad, but they're happy tears because even though what happens after this song is terrible, the memory during is beautiful. She takes in a deep breath as she lets the memory of the song pour over her.

She's sitting down on the stairs—she's supposed to be sleeping—and she quietly watches her dad slow dance with her mom to Fitzgerald's song on a record player. (Her dad never bought anything for a record player but jazz and it's something she herself continues doing. Her rock and roll is played on a speaker instead). Her mom's face buried in her dad's neck and she laughs at something he whispers in her ear. There's a power outage and candles ingnite the living room giving it a pretty glow. She peeks her head out a little more to get a good look at her dad, but she instantly throws her head back when he looks her way. To this day, Nicole is sure her dad caught her.

She's snapped out of her thoughts when she sees Waverly walking towards her with 2 mugs in her hands.

"This is my favorite song by her," Waverly says, sitting beside her. She takes the mug with a vague thanks and takes a sip right away. She lets out a moan when she tastes the rich chocolate.

"Everyone always reacts like that," Waverly laughs.

"It's like I'm drinking heaven itself!" Nicole says

"Why thank you. It's a secret recipe," Waverly winks.

"You came up with it?" Nicole asks in amazement, taking another sip. It warms her chest almost as much as Waverly's eyes.

 _Almost_.

Waverly nods and laughs.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You've got whipped cream on your nose," Waverly says.

For the 3rd time in less than an hour, Nicole turns red. She wipes away at her nose, but Waverly laughs again.

"You just spread it around. Here, I got it," Waverly gets closer to her and wipes it away with a napkin, her warm eyes boring into hers while she does so. They realize that they're staring too intently at each other and both look away awkwardly.

Nicole clears her throat. "You said this song is your favorite?"

Waverly nods. "It's the first jazz song I ever listened to, the one that made me fall in love with jazz in the first place. My aunt used to play her records all the time when I was young. My sister hated them," she laughs. "But, I loved it enough to go to college and learn more about it."

"Do you play an instrument?" Nicole asks, her curiousity piqued.

"I sing," she says shyly.

"I've definitely got to hear that someday."

"Maybe you will," Waverly says confidently.

They stare at each other again for a moment, only this time when they break away it's not awkward.

"This is the song that was playing when I last saw my dad," Nicole says, looking outside the window. The snow is inches high now, but nostalgia beats her nervousness.

She feels a hand on hers again. Only this time when she glances at it, Waverly doesn't let go. She gives her a grateful smile.

"What happened to him?" Waverly asks.

"My dad played the trumpet. And one night, a jazz band, his best friend's, called to tell him that their trumpet player wasn't going to be able to make it to the gig—got last sick last minute or something. Anyway, my dad, never passing up the opportunity to play, said yes right away. I had just gone upstairs to go back to sleep before they caught me looking at them slow dance to this song. I was awoken an hour later to go to the hospital. There was a power-outage that night and the headlight were going crazy. I guess my dad and someone else both assumed it was their turn to drive and they ended up crashing. Both died right away."

"I'm sorry," Waverly says with sympathetic eyes.

"Nothing to be sorry about," Nicole says. "He may have died young, but he lived a good life. I only knew him for 7 years, but he taught me a lot."

"More importantly, he got you to love jazz."

Nicole laughs. "That he did."

There hands are still together, but neither let go. Instead, they drink their hot chocolate and make conversation about whatever comes to mind.

Waverly is easily one of the most interesting people Nicole has ever met and she's got the warmest eyes she's ever seen. She finds herself liking the barista faster than she's ever liked anyone. But, she also finds that she doesn't have a problem with it.

An hour later, their conversation is broken when the lights go out. Waverly groans. Nicole's afraid.

She guesses that Waverly senses her fear again because she intertwines their hands instead and gives it a firm squeeze. "The generators should kick in any second. No need to be afraid, I've got you."

Nicole smiles at her through the darkness, and finds that her fast-beating heart gets impossibly faster but not because of the fear. But she feels better, especially when Nat King Cole's _Smile_ comes on. They sit in silence, waiting for the generators to kick in, and revel in the song.

_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by if you smile through your fear and sorrow,_

_Smile and maybe tomorrow you'll see the sun come shining through for you_

The lights turn on, but their bubble of comfort isn't broken. Waverly pulls back her hand, but Nicole stops her. It's then that she realizes how close they both are. They were practically on both of ends of the couch when the conversation started, but now their knees and shoulders are touching.

"Waverly?" Nicole whispers, as if speaking any louder will break the spell that's over them.

"Yes?"

"I want to kiss you."

Waverly visibly gulps and simply nods. Nicole gets close her face and when their lips are centimeters apart, they stop there, breathing each other in. Then, she closes the gap and a warmth that now makes her hot spreads all over her body. The kiss is soft and gentle and hesitant. It lasts a couple minutes and she sucks on Waverly's bottom lip softly before letting go.

"You're good at that," Waverly says.

Nicole laughs a good genuine laugh. "So are you."

"Good enough to make you want to do it again?" Waverly asks.

"Definitely," Nicole says without hesitation.

They spend the last hour of the storm talking some more, but mainly sharing kisses. When the storm ends, Nicole gathers her things, but leaves her number. Before she leaves the shop, Waverly stops her.

"Nicole?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For staying, I mean," Waverly says.

"No problem. It was worth being locked up in here and being freaked out by a storm."

"Why was it worth it?"

"Because I got to listen to jazz with a pretty girl and stare into her warm eyes."

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this warmed your heart a little :-)


End file.
